


Look At Those Stars This Moment Will Die

by Lion_owl



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Allusions to regeneration, Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Graham's POV, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Post-Episode: s11e09 It Takes You Away, Woman Wept (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: Or it won’t, as the case may turn out to be…The TARDIS Fam needs a break. Both feeling bereft and emotionally drained after having come face-to-face with their deceased spouses on the Solitract plane, Graham and the Doctor have a conversation about love, loss, time and space.
Relationships: Grace O'Brien & Ryan Sinclair & Graham O'Brien, Grace O'Brien/Graham O'Brien, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, Thirteenth Doctor & Graham O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan & Graham O'Brien & Ryan Sinclair, Thirteenth Doctor/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Look At Those Stars This Moment Will Die

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a direct sequel to another work of mine, [_Yet Another Goodbye_ (721 words)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466647)
> 
> It is heavily inspired by, and draws its title from, [_Midnight’s Chant_ by Kalidia](https://www.shazam.com/de/track/443966051/midnights-chant)
> 
> Kudos & comments always appreciated!

“We’re going to need to wrap up warm for this one,” the Doctor says, leading the three of them to one of the wardrobe rooms for a selection of winter outerwear. The Doctor leading, as always; looking forward. Not looking back. But many times that Graham has learnt something new about her, he sees a new crack in her mask.

She was all confidence: explaining the trap, convincing him and Erik to see the truth of it for themselves; breaking the mirror-portal, making sure Hanne and Erik were going to be okay now; leading them, her fam, back to the TARDIS, commenting on the beautiful scenery and the plotting of sheep, along the way.

By all accounts, already ready and buzzing for the next adventure.

But before all that, Graham saw her face: when she was refusing to turn around, and when she eventually did; and looked upon the new figure who had approached them when, presumably, the Solitract was getting desperate and thought that producing someone for the Doctor – who once again was leading – may turn things in their favour.

Graham saw her face, and he recognised it.

It’s the same face he sees in the mirror every day since…

“Where are we?” Yaz asks once they’re all wrapped up and stepping foot outside onto an endless beach with sand the colour of pale lavender.

“It’s called Woman Wept,” the Doctor says. “The entire planet is sort of – frozen, but it’s always been completely uninhabited. Very peaceful place.”

“Not too likely a target for invasion or something then?” Ryan asks. It’s normally the kind of thing Graham would mention, but he hasn’t the energy, and he’s grateful to his grandson for stepping up.

“Not likely, no. Thought we could all use a bit of a break,” she says, looking at Graham as she speaks.

“Good idea, Doc,” he agrees. “Anything we should know?”

“Mostly just keep your hats and gloves on,” she says.

He nods, and wanders away, finding a spot he likes and sitting down, looking out over the horizon. Quite some distance away, there are crashing waves, as he could have expected from a beach, but farther still… it looks like towers of ice. Beyond those, the outline of snow-capped mountains, a bright contrast against the navy sky.

It’s beautiful.

He wonders what Grace would have said about it.

He’d decided to start travelling with the Doctor to give himself time to try and come to terms with Grace’s death. He’d never have believed he might have found himself thinking he was going to get her back.

And then she was ripped away from him, all over again.

“Chilly, isn’t it?” the Doctor says. He hadn’t heard her approach.

“Just a bit.” As if on cue, he shivers.

“This is the warmer coast, as well,” she says. “Where there’s still water rather than all of it ice.”

He turns around to look at her, standing a couple of metres away, sort of hovering. Yaz, Ryan and the TARDIS are matchstick sized figures. “Are you joining me?”

“As long as it isn’t an imposition?”

“Be my guest,” he says, turning back to the view in front of him. “The ice towers…?”

“Frozen waves,” she says, sitting down beside him. “I walked under one once.”

He imagines walking under a frozen wave with Grace. He can hear her voice: ‘ _this is magnificent_ ,’ she might have said, ‘ _we’re so lucky to be here._ ’ He doesn’t want to walk under it without her. He’s glad they’re so far away.

“I’m really sorry,” the Doctor says after a while.

“Not your fault.” He glances at her again. She is leaning back on her gloved hands, staring up at the sky, a doleful expression on her face. He looks away, feeling as though he is violating her privacy if he watches her.

“I know, but I know it was rather a shock,” she says, and he supposes she means for both of them.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” he says, “who was he?”

“Alistair,” she says. His name, Graham imagines.

It’s just a name: Graham has known several people called Alistair over the years, none of them he could claim to know very well. But the way the Doctor says it, he can hear the weight of history in it, of reverence, of love; it sounds like it came straight out of her soul.

It sounds the way he feels when he says Grace’s name out loud.

“He was, well, he was my husband, as you may have deduced. And one of my oldest friends…” she trails off, seemingly lost deep in thought, and just when he thinks she isn’t going to say any more, she continues: “So many things I could say, I honestly don’t know where to begin. I could start right at _the_ beginning, but we’ll be here all night. Well not _all night_ , this continent _only_ has night since Woman Wept became gravitationally locked after the – but you get the point.”

“That’s alright,” he says. He doesn’t want to be here all night. And it feels selfish to think, but he doesn’t want to hear the _entire_ tale, not _right_ at the minute. He doubts she wants to tell it, either.

“He was… still is, the love of my life. Lives. But he’s gone now.”

Graham doesn’t question that strange pluralisation.

The Doctor unwinds her scarf, despite having told them all _not_ to do that, and partly unzips her thick coat, reaching into the pocket of her normal coat, producing a photograph and gazing at it. She doesn’t hold it towards him to show him, so he averts his eyes, but not before catching a glimpse of the man they met on the Solitract plane – Alistair – wrapped in the arms of someone else who Graham doesn’t recognise even slightly. Which does seem a little bit odd, he thinks, but he’s sure the Doctor has a reason.

He can’t blame her though.

As well as the frog necklace which he only ever takes off in bed and in the shower, he keeps a picture of Grace close-by: it’s of the two of them, taken by Ryan on the hill where they would go for him to practise his cycling, at lunch, Graham is rooting through the picnic basket and Grace is laughing at him because he can’t find the crisp that fell off his plate. When he set it as his phone wallpaper, he had no idea it would be the last photo of her anyone would ever take. 

There’s a shriek of laughter in the distance, and Graham and the Doctor both look over to see Ryan running and Yaz chase after him, tackling him.

“They’re having fun,” the Doctor notes.

“Yeah,” Graham agrees. “I keep wondering how Ryan would have reacted if he’d met… the Solitract.”

“You know him better than I do.”

“He’s so young. They both are. And yet he’s already lost so much. First his mum, and for all intents and purposes his dad too, and then his granddad, Grace’s first husband… and now Grace. I’m not sure he would have taken it well. I suppose I’m relieved for him to have been spared what you and I went through. And yet I feel guilty, because if I’m understanding you correctly, the Solitract never had any of that, did they?”

“It’s a harsh universe out there sometimes,” the Doctor says. “I’m really sad there was nothing I could do for the Solitract. But for Yaz and Ryan – like you say, they’re young. Love and loss often come hand in hand, and they still have so much of both ahead of them. I don’t know about you, but I would never sacrifice the former to avoid the latter.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Graham says. “Three years felt like eternity with Grace by my side.”

“Hmm, I know something of what you mean,” the Doctor says, lifting the photograph and kissing Alistair’s image before tucking it gently back inside her jacket, tightening her scarf around her neck again.

Graham lets out a sigh and watches the condensation drift away.

“It doesn’t get any easier though, does it?” he asks, lying down on his back, looking up at the stars and wondering if he can see from here, any that he’s visited. “The wounds may heal, but the pain never fully goes away.”

“Short of completely forgetting someone, and even then, I’m not sure that could ever happen,” she says. “People move on and eventually die, places are built upon or torn down, change is constant and inevitable. But I take comfort in the fact that Time never lets anything or anyone truly disappear.”

“I’m not sure I’m following,” he admits.

“Time gives structure to the universe in the same way Space does. If everywhere you’d ever been occupied the same point in Space, it would just be a big jumble of all sorts. Space makes those places discrete. Time has the same effect. It’s more difficult to see it from a linear perspective, because unlike with Space you can only move in a single direction through Time, and even if you can manipulate chronons you have to be extremely careful about crossing your own worldline, so it seems that when a moment has passed, it’s gone. But it’s still there – largely inaccessible, yes, but not gone. If that makes sense?”

“I think possibly, yeah,” Graham says. “Explain it to me again when I have a clearer head.”

“I will,” the Doctor promises. “Ryan and Yaz might have fallen asleep.”

Graham leans up on his elbow and looks over to where the two of them are now sitting together, leaning their backs against an exterior wall of the TARDIS, and their sides against each other, Ryan’s head on Yaz’s shoulder.

“Aw, bless,” Graham says, smiling at the sight. “I think perhaps I’ll head back, I could do with a warm drink.”

“That’s a wise idea,” the Doctor agrees, getting to her feet and offering him a hand up. “It’ll be well below freezing soon.”

“Is this sand anything like sand on Earth?” he asks, brushing it off his clothes. “Will I be finding it for years to come?”

The Doctor chuckles. “I don’t think _any_ sand is quite _that_ bad.”

“No, perhaps not, but it does have a certain ubiquity,” Graham says, and then his stomach rumbles. “But never mind the sand. I’ve just remembered I gave my sandwich to Hanne. Think it’s about time I got some food in me.”

Ryan and Yaz both stand up as Graham and the Doctor approach – so maybe not asleep then.

“You alright?” Yaz asks. “Looked like you were having quite a serious conversation.”

“We’re – I’m – we were,” the Doctor looks at Graham, who nods his assent. “We were talking about what happened in Norway. About Grace and Alistair.”

“Who’s Alistair?” Ryan asks. Yaz can surmise, but Ryan never saw _him_ , either.

“He’s my – he was mine…” she gestures wildly at Yaz and Graham, and steps into the TARDIS.

“The Solitract used his image to try and lure the Doctor to stay, like how it used Grace for Graham and Trine for Erik,” Yaz explains.

“Yeah, Doc told me they were married, but he’s dead too,” Graham adds. “Didn’t say much else, though. You know how she never does.”

“I see,” Ryan says, in the voice that says he’s still processing.

Graham’s stomach rumbles again.

The Doctor isn’t in the console room when they get back inside and remove their jackets and knitwear, but there’s a large flashing arrow pointing to one of the doors that leads off it. Which is followed by more flashing arrows, which the three of them follow down a corridor to a flashing door.

Through that door is a large room containing a food-laden table, with three walls and an open space that leads onto a wide patio facing the same sea-ice-mountain view they had had outside.

“Holographically generated, of course,” the Doctor’s voice, chirpy once again, echoes out of nowhere. “Linked into the external scanners, a three-D viewing screen on account of the fact that the TARDIS doesn’t have a patio.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Graham says. “We get to enjoy the scenery, but without the biting cold.”

“Exactly,” the Doctor says, sliding into the room. “Midnight snack, anyone?”


End file.
